


at the end of the day

by landofpromise



Series: obviously i want him back [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Contract Negotiations, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landofpromise/pseuds/landofpromise
Summary: It's the first real summer where they're not skirting around each other's feelings and missing Kappy feels more intense regardless of how often they text. It's not as bad before.That is until Kappy stops texting him.





	at the end of the day

**Author's Note:**

> \- father/son relationship
> 
> \- i know i said it's canon compliant but i haven't been active in the fandom for a while, so uh, i excluded/misrepresented certain things i don't know too much information about!  
> thank you ariya for helping with this A LOT :)

They lose in the first round of the playoffs. Again. And, Willy's upset, they didn't do their best. It's always painful to expect to win, and nothing happens. Willy doesn't know, he's upset. We're just getting started, is what he tries to tell himself. He knows if he thinks about it too hard, it'll mess with him like it did last time, and he'd very much like to see outside during the summer.

Kappy is taking it better than expected, Willy thinks though. He’s glad about that. When it comes to hockey, Kappy gets pretty irrational. All Willy wants is to see Kasperi happy. 

Willy only waits about five minutes in the car before Kappy gets in the passenger side. Kappy needed to run a few errands before he leaves to Denmark for the World Championships tomorrow.

“I’m hungry,” Kappy announces. 

Willy hums. “I have some leftovers at home.”

Kappy snorts. “Okay, mom.”

“Hey,” Willy says sternly. “I just don’t feel like eating out right now.”

Kappy sighs. “I know.”

“Let’s relax,” Willy says. “We do need to pack certain things later.”

“Is that all you want to do?” Kappy asks.

He's leaning into Willy now, and usually, Willy would push him off, kick him out his car and call him  _ gross _ , and not smooth at all, but touching and being close Kasperi is all he wants right now. 

“We could fuck,” Willy says like he’s weighing out the pros and cons. 

“You could be a little less harsh,” Kappy suggests in the same tone. 

“Please,” Willy laughs. “The first thing my boyfriend wants to do after we get knocked out of the playoffs is have sex.”

Willy's eyes are on the road, but he's picturing Kappy's current look of panic perfectly fine. He likes the flattery that comes after when he teases Kappy like this. He grins when he hears Kappy splutter, "You know I-- you know."

Willy nods. “I know.” 

Of course, Willy knows, he knows what Kappy means when he doesn't say the whole thing. For two guys that can argue all day about the best goals scored in the eighties to the fact that Willy  _ doesn’t _ need to have the TV on in the background to go to sleep, but when it comes to  _ romance  _ and relationship talks, it’s always unfinished sentences and stuttered statements. Still, they somehow know what the other is saying, and it’s nice. Half-ass communications skills. 

The drive home is quick, and if Willy could, he’d sprint up the stairs. Unfortunately living on the highest floor has its cons. 

Kappy's hand is on his waist, squeezing, during the elevator ride and Willy presses into him, delighted about being home, and what's to come of course. He bites at the bit of collarbone the shows, from Kappy's constant nervous tugging of his shirt collars. Kappy laughs and pulls him in, and Willy just breathes in. He wraps his arms around Kappy's waist. 

“You need to shower,” Willy mutters.

“I showered this morning,” Kappy says. “You were there, remember?”

Willy doesn’t respond, he kisses Kappy’s chin, where his stubble is growing, and Kappy turns his face so that their lips meet. 

The ding of the elevator arriving at their designated floor makes the both of them jump apart. Thankfully there’s no one there. 

"Thought we said we weren't gonna do that again," Kappy says to Willy as they exit. 

“You’re very distracting,” Willy states. 

As they get inside, Willy's quick to make his way to their bedroom, but is confused when it's just his footsteps alone he's hearing. He turns around, and Kappy isn't even in the hallway. 

“Hello?” He calls out. 

Kappy yells back. “I’m getting food. Said I was hungry.”

“Babe,” Willy whines loudly. 

“Baby,” Kappy whines back in a mocking tone.

“Fuck off,” Willy says, and promptly doesn’t stomp into the room. 

A couple of minutes later, when Willy's engrossed in a series of baby videos on Instagram, Kappy enters the room and crawls onto the bed. He nudged at Willy's knees, and Willy spreads his legs. He's pointedly looking at his phone. It's not until Kappy nips at his earlobe that he decides maybe babies aren't important right now. He hums appreciatively as he uses his hand on Kappy's neck to guide his mouth to Willy's. 

Kappy pulls away after a few seconds. “Why aren’t you naked?” 

Willy splutters. “You went to e— _ oh _ I hate you.” Kappy’s hands have wandered down Willy’s sweats. 

Kappy chuckles. "No, you don't." 

“No I don’t,” Willy agrees breathily. 

“Aren’t you glad I ate?” asks Kappy. “I would’ve been  _ so  _ grumpy.”

“I would’ve been sleeping by now,” Willy snaps back.

“You’re so mean,” Kappy laughs. He leans down to kiss Willy, nice and slow, in tune with the movement of his hand. 

\--

Willy wakes up a couple hours later, and the alarm clock on his side indicates that it’s almost 8 p.m. Kappy is beside him, too, but he’s on the phone, speaking in Finnish. Willy on picks up a little, well, only  _ dad _ and  _ mom _ . He’s talking to one of his parents, which reminds Willy he should call his own, and his brother too probably. 

Willy tends to get weird during the playoffs, when he usually would be attached to his phone, during playoffs, he'll do some ridiculous stuff, like leave his phone on the edge of his bed where it'll eventually slide off and when he  _ finds  _ it, he’s got at least fifty missed text messages. Needless to say, his family is definitely still mad about that.

“My dad says hi,” Kappy tells Willy when he finishes his phone conversation with his family.

Willy smiles. “You didn’t give me a chance to say hi back.”

“It’s late there,” Kappy says. 

“Did you shower?” Willy sniffs him. 

Kappy pulls his arm away. “Yes, you freak. You slept for hours.”

“Okay,” Willy says, sitting up. “I’m gonna go shower, then.” 

His shower is longer than usual, he’s half thinking about what he could’ve done to prevent the loss and also thinking about what’s to come for the summer. He’s not excited for the summer,  _ of course _ , what athlete is excited about the off-season. But it’s okay, though, he keeps telling himself when he thinks about contract negotiations, his dad is gonna be there, supporting him.

His phone is ringing when he gets out the shower, on the bathroom counter and he’s glad to see that it’s Alex calling him. 

“Hello,” Willy says. “You’ll be seeing me soon.”

“Only for a few days,” Alex complains. 

“If we make the best of it, that won’t matter,” Willy reasons. 

“You should be playing,” Alex days and Willy softens.

“I need rest,” Willy says. 

“That’s true,” Alex agrees. “So.”

Willy rolls his eyes. He knows that voice. “He hasn’t fucked up.” 

Alex likes Kappy, and Kappy likes Alex. Willy was never worried about that, really, he and Kappy were barely friends when Alex first met. Willy doesn't tell Alex everything, either. Not that he's keeping things from him, but he doesn't tell if Alex doesn't ask. And he thinks Alex would get tired of every little problem he had with Kappy, especially when they thought the no-strings-attached deal was a good idea. 

“Yet,” Alex adds unhelpfully. “I’m gonna take him to dinner when I see him.”

“Does he know that?” Willy smiles. “You know you have to ask first.”

“Whatever, I can just DM him,” Alex says. “So, like, you guys are good, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Willy frowns. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I--” Alex sounds unsure suddenly. “Dad said--”

Willy suddenly feels cold. “Dad said what?”

“That when you sign sometimes it can affect your relationship with your team,” Alex explains, although the way his voice wavers, and to Willy, it feels like he isn’t even sure he should even be saying that. 

"It won't," Willy says matter-of-factly. "It's fine. Our egos won't get in the way."

“Maybe your own won’t,” Alex says so quiet that Willy almost misses it. 

He’s tired. “Look,” Willy starts. “We already talk about it. Also, there’s never been a time where he’s been like that. Or even  _ myself _ . He’s not dad’s teammates.”

“Right,” Alex responds. “Sorry.” 

"It's okay, you're my brother," Willy says softly. "You're trying to protect me."

“And dad gets to my head a lot.”

“Well,” Willy says. “They’re your words.”

“Fuck you,” Alex laughs into the phone. “Your dad’s favourite.”

It's light, but it reminds Willy of their childhood and the shit that used to be said by other kids and he can't help himself but rush to reassure Alex, that their father doesn't have _ any _ favourites.

“I know,” Alex sounds mildly annoyed. “It’s kind of patronizing, you know.”

"Sorry," Willy says. He jumps a little when the bathroom door opens, and the coolness from their bedroom seeps in. Kappy pokes his head in and raises his brows. 

Willy points a finger to his phone, indicating that someone is on the line. He's half-listening to Alex talk about how awful his flight was -- Willy will soon admonish him for not getting a pillow for his neck and not eating correctly. Kappy nods in acknowledgment, disappearing from the door. Willy exits the bathroom, now, dry enough and a little chilly. 

Kappy’s sitting on the bed, peering at Willy. He mouths,  _ pasta _ ?

Willy nods vehemently. “Of course.”

“Of course what?” Alex asks into his ear.

“I’m talking to Kassu,” Willy clarifies. “I’ll call you back, okay, gonna go make dinner.”

"You sure?" Alex's tone is teasing, but Willy can play this game too if Alex really wants to. 

“Don’t worry, we went twice already today,” Willy says sweetly in English. 

"Bye." The line clicks, and Willy grins.

“You’re trying to torture him,” Kappy says, but he’s grinning as well. He looks good like this, Willy can’t explain it, but Kappy just looks  _ good _ . Relaxed, and happy and Willy can’t help but kiss him. 

“My brother won’t stop trying to torture  _ me _ ,” Willy replies back when they pull away. He walks into the closet to find some pajama pants that he really only wears around Christmas time, for the spirit, you know. And it’s cold. 

Dinner's good, dirty plates were long forgotten on their coffee table while a really awful reality show plays as they each lie on opposite ends of the couch. Willy's texting Mitch, who needs advice on what to order quickly because the line is getting shorter fast. 

“Burrito bowl or nah?” Willy asks looking over at Kappy. He seems to actually be into the show, and Willy snorts. This guy can get into anything.

“Nah,” Kappy answers absentmindedly. He then frowns and turns his head to look at Willy. “We just ate.”

“I know,” Willy says. He texts Mitch back,  _ kas says no burrito bowl. Order something else _

Mitch sends back a middle finger emoji causing Willy to laugh out loud before he locks his phone for the last time. “Baby.”

Kappy hums. “Babe.”

“Do you think-- do you think this summer will go by okay?” Willy fumbles out. 

“What do you mean?” Kappy furrows his brows. “With your new signing?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” Willy flushes. “But--- yeah… and everything else.”

Everything else meaning, being apart. The last time they were apart for a while, after leaving on good terms, one of them came back with a new  _ friend _ . He also doesn't want to hear an I-told-you-so from Alex or Mitch. Although, he's sure Mitch would be as surprised as him if anything happens at this point.

“Um,” Kappy sits up. “I know so. Because we’re not stupid.”

Willy gives a half-smile. “You sure about that?”

“Well, okay, fine,” Kappy says, he pushes himself forward before resting his head on Willy’s left thigh. “I know  _ I’m _ smart.”

Willy pulls his ear. “Take it back.”

“Fine,” Kappy starts. “But seriously, did I do something to make you worry?”

"No," Willy says because it's true. It's everyone around him, constantly doubting Willy's abilities and intuitions. "My stupid brother."

“He’s protective of you,” Kappy reasons. “And we didn’t have the steadiest relationship last summer.”

“We didn’t have a relationship at  _ all _ ,” Willy says, though it was mostly his doing, blocking numbers and such. At the time it felt, healthy instead of like, you know, communication.

“I thought was the pessimist,” Kappy says with a little bite in his tone.

Willy sighs. He doesn’t want to argue about whatever the hell Kappy’s mad at now, he wants to spend his last night with his  _ boyfriend _ . He doesn’t respond, only begins to run his fingers softly through Kappy’s hair.

The next morning goes by really fast. Of course, Kappy spends more than what is necessary for the bathroom to get ready for his flight and Willy burns his attempt at breakfast, so they decide they'll just pick up their own preferred breakfast meals on the way there. 

Willy feels dread the whole morning. He doesn’t want to sound like a child, but the thought of leaving is unpleasant. The summer is going to be different than usual, Willy can just feel it. 

—

Willy’s gone through three packs of M&M’s when Kappy scores his first goal of the tournament. Finland’s already winning, by  _ a lot _ , and the game has about thirteen minutes left, but Willy still gets excited, knocking over his candy all over the floor. He’s glad he’s alone, so no one has to see him this embarrassing. 

He doesn't hear from Kappy until a couple hours later when he's washing his plate from dinner and preparing to retreat to his room for the rest of night. 

“Hey,” Willy says, drying his hands. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” Kappy says. There’s music blaring in the background, and Willy can barely hear him already. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to get in bed,” Willy says.

“Hot,” Kappy deadpans.

Willy snickers. “Shut up.”

“I miss you,” Kappy says softly.

Willy squints. His stove clock says it's only 9 p.m.; usually, he'd still be at home getting ready to go out. "Are you drunk?"

“Tipsy,” Kappy corrects.

“Oh, so much better,” Willy says sarcastically. 

“Do you miss me?” 

Willy hums. “I saw you two days ago, though.”

“It’s weird, though,” Kappy starts. “Being without you.”

"I know—" Willy is interrupted by a someone should belligerently into the phone in slurred Finnish, startling him a bit. Kappy responds back, a little more severe than the other person before Willy hears the sound of movement. The music is gone in a second, and now all Willy can hear is distant chatter.

“Hey,” Kappy says again.

“Hi,” Willy says, kicking off his slippers. His bed is nicely made, and he’s not ashamed to say that’s the only chore he’s done today. He’s so excited to ruin it. 

“One of the guys’ told me to tell my girlfriend to let me have a life,” Kappy says vaguely. 

Willy frowns. “What’d you say?”

“I said ‘will do,’” Kappy chirps.

Willy blinks. “Seriously.”

“I’m kidding,” Kappy laughs. “I told him to fuck off.”

“That sounds better,” Willy feels relieved. 

It’s weird, talking about their relationship in that context, where  _ no one  _ is supposed to know, really, just Kappy and Willy. That’s what they agreed on, but that slowly turned to Mitch claiming that he’s got a sixth sense, Zach  _ accidentally  _ reading his texts on the bus beside him, and Willy—Willy can’t keep anything exciting from his brother. 

World Championships goes okay for the rest of the time, Finland comes in third while Sweden comes in second. Willy takes turns consoling both his brother and Kappy, of course, although he's glad Sweden didn't do  _ so  _ much worse than Finland.

**Leafs qualify Nylander, five other RFAs**

_ @LeafsPR:  _ _ The Toronto Maple Leafs extended qualifying offers today to the following restricted free agents: Miro Aaltonen, Frederik Gauthier, Justin Holl, Andreas Johnsson, Martin Marincin and William Nylander. _ [ _#TMLtalk_](https://twitter.com/hashtag/TMLtalk?src=hash)

“Best three out of five?” Willy suggests when he loses the second match of tennis in the row. 

David makes a show of laughing at Willy, pointing at Willy and clutching at his own stomach. Willy rolls his eyes. His friend is an idiot. 

“I’m beat,” David says. “Can we recharge first.”

“That’s gonna throw me off my game,” Willy says. 

David stares. 

Willy sighs. “Okay fine.”

“You are so competitive,” David chuckles. “I’m still surprised you’re dating your teammate.”

Willy’s smile falters for a moment before he stands straighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m just  _ saying _ ," David shrugs. "There are no hard feelings about who gets out of training camp, and that's cool."

Willy snorts. “That’s not true.”

David looks more alert. “You never told me,” he comments. 

“There  _ were _ ,” Willy admits, not looking at David. “He’s gonna make it out this time, though.”

“Oh for sure,” David says, but the way he’s looking at Willy is making Willy feel a bit tense. 

“What?” Willy asks.

“Nothing,” David says. “I can’t believe you’re in a committed relationship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Willy squints. “I’m a good--”

“I’m sure,” David cuts him off. “But we’re supposed to hoeing together.”

Willy can’t help but laugh. “We can do other things together, too.”

“Like what?” David sounds absolutely miserable, but Willy knows he’s just putting on a show to make him laugh and it’s working. 

**\--**

It's the first real summer where they're not skirting around each other's feelings and missing Kappy feels more intense regardless of how often they text. It wasn't as bad before, Willy more homesick than anything, spending most of his time trying to catch up with old friends. But when they had to start leaving early, because their significant others were waiting for them at home, that's when Willy began realizing that he wanted to someone to come home to, in Sweden,  _ anywhere _ , pretty much.

He misses his boyfriend a lot, okay.

“What are you doing today?” Kappy asks over the phone. 

“Nothing,” Willy says. He’s been doing nothing but training, he knows that sounds  _ awful _ , and he needs to hang out with more people who aren’t just David and Alex. “I’m just chilling at home today, my dad might drop by.”

“Good,” Kappy replies. He sounds like he’s getting out of his car. 

"Why?" Willy asks. He wonders if the deep steam setting on his dryer works well with shirts. "I do the same thing every day if it changed you'd know."

“Was just making sure, geesh,” Kappy says. 

“Well—“ Willy starts before he’s interrupted by the doorbell. “Hold on. It’s probably my dad.”

“So early?” Kappy asks.

“He's weird,” Willy grumbles. 

Willy opens the door, and it’s not his dad, because his dad would’ve  _ called _ beforehand, it’s his stupid, spontaneous, boyfriend, looking very tired and like… he left one suitcase on the walkway to the driveway. 

“You’re so stupid,” Willy walks past him to collect the forgotten suitcase. 

“Do you have coffee?” Kappy calls.

“Yes,” Willy walks up. “Go inside.”

Kappy moves to make his own coffee, knowing exactly which cabinet to grab it from, even though he hasn’t been to this place in a year. But he still manages to lose his phone every thirty minutes. 

When Willy gets a seat on one of his stools, he asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” Kappy says quietly. 

“I missed you too,” Willy says smiles at Kappy from across his kitchen counter. Kappy smiles back before crossing around the island counter and grabbing Willy’s face, leaning down to kiss him. 

Willy can't help but melt, he pulls Kappy closer with an arm wrapped around Kappy's waist, his neck hurts like this, being seated while Kappy's standing, but he doesn't care until it's been a while. Willy moans a little into the kiss, he'll undoubtedly blame the fact that he's been alone for a month on that. 

“Baby,” Willy pulls away. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I want coffee,” Kappy protests.

“Not this again,” Willy groans, standing up. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh?” Kappy smiles. “That’s all you had to say.”

—

Kappy bites at Willy’s shoulder, teasingly, and Willy hisses before pushing at him. “You’re so annoying.”

Three knocks on the door follow. 

“Food’s here,” Willy looks at his boyfriend. 

“So?” Kappy says. “Go get it.”

“Can you get it for me?” Willy pleads, smiling a little. “Please?”

“How do you survive living alone?” Kappy says as gets up. He spends a few seconds looking for clothes before picking up Willy’s sweats. “I’m gonna wear these.”

“I think they’re David’s,” Willy grins when Kappy groans but leaves quickly.

The door opens back up in a few moments, and Willy frowns when Kappy comes back in with no bags of takeout in his arms. He sits up as Kappy opens his suitcase looking for something. 

“What’s wrong?”

"You said your dad was coming?" Kappy asks pulling out a plain white t-shirt. He quickly gets dressed into it and now Willy's curious. When he looks up at Willy, he looks a little crazy. 

Willy blinks. “I said maybe. He was supposed to text m—“ He freezes when he checks his phone and sees that his dad  _ did,  _ in fact, text him, letting Willy know he'd drop by in an hour. 

“Yeah, get up,” Kappy says.

Willy’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest at this point. He doesn’t know what could go right or wrong right now. A hoodie and shorts will do for now. 

His dad is in his living room, seated on one of Willy’s chairs, watching Willy as he walks in. 

“Dad, hey, I missed your text,” Willy tries to sound apologetic. 

“And my four missed calls,” his dad gruffs. 

Willy winces. “I didn’t have my phone on me.”

“Okay,” his dad starts. “Weren’t you going to train today?”

“I took a day off,” Willy answers.

His dad looks at Kappy, who’s looking down at his hands. “I see.”

“Kasperi’s my boyfriend,” Willy blurts.

The momentary silence that follows feels like twenty-four hours. This wasn't how he wanted to tell his dad, he wasn't even sure if he  _ ever  _ wanted to. Willy doesn’t want to see Kappy’s reaction, but his Dad’s expression doesn’t change. He’s not sure what that means. 

“I figured,” his dad starts. “For starters, he answered your door. Looking quite comfortable.”

Kappy is usually always in a state of undress when he's in his own private setting, it used to annoy Willy before, but now he doesn't even notice it anymore until outsiders point it out. 

“Yeah,” Willy says lamely. 

“I’ll call you tonight,” his dad says standing up. “You two enjoy the rest of your day.”

Willy walks his dad to his door, his dad doesn't linger, closing the door behind him and Willy feels like shit. He doesn't really fully understand what just unraveled yet, but he feels like he only massively disappointed his dad. He  _ wishes  _ that he had just checked his phone at least once. 

“Hey,” Kappy starts. “Need a hug?”

“I do,” Willy doesn’t pout. Kappy tuts mockingly, but walks over to Willy and pulls him quickly into his chest. 

“I shouldn’t have told my dad without talking to you first,” Willy says, voice muffled.

“I mean—“ Kappy cuts himself off shrugging. “Alex knows? And my family.”

Willy snorts. “Yeah, your family for sure.” Kappy’s mom has seen worse, and Willy sometimes still imagines what the two of them should have done throughout the day to prevent that from  _ ever  _ happening. It’d spare everyone’s memories. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Kappy says. 

“He hates me,” Willy retorts. 

“You must not remember how my dad took it, then,” Kappy says. “I’m sure you’d prefer this any day.”

Willy bristles. “It’s not a competition.” 

“I know, I’m just saying,” Kappy sighs. “I think he’s just surprised. Plus, it’s not your fault, he just showed up out of nowhere.”

_ You just showed up out of nowhere _ , Willy wants to say, but he doesn't. He's being immature, and an asshole and he knows it, now. 

Kappy's mom walked in on them. While it wasn't bad, they were only kissing, it seemed to be rattling for all three parties, and especially for someone like Willy. Someone who likes to be ahead of things, aware of any outcome. She immediately ran to the kitchen, with Kappy quickly following her, and it seems that Kappy and his parents argued in him and Willy's kitchen for hours. 

Willy doesn’t remember ever being as scared as he’d been in that moment, waiting for Kappy to come back. And when he did, he immediately went to sleep. It’s hard to believe that wasn’t  _ at least  _ a year ago. 

“I want a nap,” Willy says. “Take me to bed.”

“It’s your house,” Kappy says, grabbing Willy’s free hand not bunched up in Kappy’s shirt and leads him out of the foyer nonetheless. 

It doesn’t take him long to get settled into his already unmade bed. It’s not as warm as it was first thing in the morning, but he still melts into it. Sleep is good right now. Because with sleep, you can just, like, avoid your problems until they arise when you wake up. So, Willy probably needs about a twelve-hour nap. Kappy climbs in behind, and Willy snuggles back into him.

He checks the most recent notifications on his phone, a habit he does before shoving his phone under the pillow and wondering why his phone is dead. 

He’s only got one text, from his Dad.

_ Don’t make him be the reason behind your decisions this summer _

**William Nylander looking for a long-term deal with Toronto Maple leafs**

_ “Of course I want long-term,” the 22-year-old said. “That’s what I want to do, but we’ll take it slow, day by day, and see what happens.” _

Contract negotiations begin. His dad and agent have been talking well before Willy even started formalizing his own thoughts about the contract signing. 

_ What Willy Wants _

  * __Something long-term__


  * _Something reasonable, nothing too low but nothing too flashy_


  * _To stay in Toronto — his home_



“I love Toronto,” Willy tells his agent.

“The team is going through a lot of changes,” his agent explains carefully. 

Willy looks at his dad, who’s looking at his agent intently. “What does that mean?” Willy asks.

“It means you don’t want to be underpaid and playing for a team that doesn’t know where they’re going,” his dad pipes in. 

“So,” Willy closes his eyes. “How much?”

“Eight million,” Willy’s agent answers. “It might be difficult to get long-term, though.”

“I don’t even know if they’d sign that  _ short _ - _ term _ ,” Willy sighs. “You’ve seen what the media says about Pasta’s contract anyway.”

“I don’t care about your friends, I care about you,” Dad says. It reminds Willy of his childhood, whenever he’d try to defend his way out of trouble for grades or behaviour. Despite the stress, he smiles a little at that. 

“I know,” Willy says petulantly.

“And what’s wrong with making a little extra cash for your hard earned work?” 

Willy shrugs, about to say there's nothing wrong when his dad continues. "If certain people are upset with what you choose to do with your career, they're not worth your time."

Willy’s confused for a moment before he realizes what his dad is saying. It’s a pathetic excuse for trying to be subtle, and Willy almost wants to laugh. 

“He’s definitely  _ not  _ why I’m hesitant to go for eight million,” Willy says. “That’s just—why would you even say that?

“I’m trying to understand what the cons of going for your worth are,” his dad explains. “And you didn’t tell me—how am I supposed to know?”

Willy’s agent coughs. “Is there something I should know?”

“No,” Willy and his dad respond at the same time.

“Okay,” his agent says promptly. “But we can’t have you two fighting in front of Dubas and his team.”

“That won’t happen,” his dad says curtly. 

“Yeah,” Willy agrees.

“You’ll have it figured out by then, won’t you William?” His dad asks in a tone that means the only response to that is,

“Of course, dad.”

—

“Your dad tells me how hurt he is, that he is the last to know about your boyfriend,” mom comments while they’re both in the kitchen preparing dinner. 

Willy pauses. “I didn’t know how he’d react.”

“I know,” mom says. “Neither did I. But it was good, right?”

“Good I guess he doesn’t want me dead,” Willy says, forgetting he’s talking to his mom. “Sorry.”

Mom coughs. “It’s okay.”

“I never thought dad’s biggest issue with me dating a teammate would be how it’d affect my contract,” Willy laughs. “But it’s another stressful thing.”

"Honey, he's a father," mom says. "Pessimism is his strength. He wants the best for you."

“I—“ Willy starts. “That’s for me to decide.”

“With the help of others,” mom points out. “I’m not saying your dad is right, but he’s not coming from a bad place.”

—

Kappy texts Willy asking how the first official sit down with his team went, to which Willy replies,  _ ok _ .

Kappy responds immediately with multiple question marks, and before Willy can elaborate on his previous message, he’s FaceTiming Willy. 

He's shirtless, of course, laying his head back on his pile of pillows. He looks sleepy like maybe he was almost about to fall asleep before his phone buzzed with a text from Willy. 

“Just okay?” Kappy asks.

“We didn’t really get anywhere,” Willy says. “Like, I knew my dad was thinking high but not  _ that  _ high.”

Kappy raises his brows. “Well, how high?”

“Eight.”

Kappy whistles. “Whoa.”

“What, you don’t think I deserve it?”

Kappy responds immediately. “That’s what I meant.”

“I know,” Willy says. “He’s crazy, right?”

“I mean, it’s really up to you,” Kappy says. “It is kinda steep, though.”

“I doubt Kyle’s gonna like it one bit,” Willy thinks aloud. 

“I don’t think GMs like giving away money at all,” Kappy points out. 

They fall into a conversation discussing each other’s days, what they ate for dinner and World Cup results. 

“I can’t believe my dad thinks you’d be a negative factor in signing,” Willy says.

“What?”

“He thinks I don’t want to sign eight million because it’ll hurt your ego,” Willy explains, although he regrets it, wondering if it’ll make Kappy feel a kind of way regardless. 

Kappy looks at the screen weird, though Willy can’t figure out what he’s thinking. “It’s your career, dude,” Kappy laughs finally.

Willy’s relieved. “I  _ know _ . We’re adults, anyway.”

— 

Willy tries to not let articles get to his head. So he doesn’t read them, not yet, at least. 

Especially not the ones talking about where his boyfriend could fit in in case his own contract signing fails. 

—

It's 12:01 am on July 23rd by the time Willy is finished packing his most of his luggage, things he won't be needing in the next two days. He doesn't know what his boyfriend's doing, but it's his birthday, and Willy needs to say happy birthday before he goes to sleep. 

Kappy answers his FaceTime call on one ring. He’s smirking.

“Happy birthday, you goblin,” Willy says. “Wipe that grin off your face.”

“I was waiting for your immediate call,” Kappy smiles. “Thanks, dude.”

“Says more about me than that does about you,” Willy muses. “You’re not going out tonight?”

Kappy's shirtless, he's lying improperly on his couch, he's going to get a neck ache, and Willy so badly wants to warn him of that, but he knows the teasing about his paternal instincts will come, so he doesn't bother.

“Nah, some friends are taking me out for brunch tomorrow,” Kappy explains.

“Brunch usually follows a night out,” Willy frowns. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I just miss you,” Kappy says, so quiet, Willy almost misses it. He feels like if it were anything else, he would’ve. 

Willy melts. “Babe. I could’ve come.”

Kappy shakes his head. “You’re busy.”

Willy stares at the screen. “Never for you.”

“You don’t need any distractions right now, you know?” 

Willy‘s pissed off, now. “What’s your problem, really?”

Kappy blinks. “I—I don’t have one?”

“If you want to break up, say it,” Willy spits. “But don’t try to spin this on me.”

“I’m not,” Kappy looks surprised, and Willy almost backs down. “I don’t want to break up with you.”

Willy deflates. “Okay. But you’re not a distraction, why would you think that?”

Willy watches as Kappy bites his lip, finding the right words to say. “I’m being insecure.”

"Oh," Willy says softly. "Oh, it's okay."

"It's--I try my best to avoid annoying you, and then I end up doing it anyway," Kappy laughs bitterly.

Willy frowns. “I wasn’t annoyed, really. I was scared you really wanted to break up.”

“Never,” says Kappy immediately. Willy smiles. 

“We’re both insecure, then.”

“Maybe,” Kappy shrugs. “Now I wish you were here.”

“Too late,” Willy says. “I gotta go to Toronto now.” 

“Okay,” Kappy says, though he doesn’t sound like it is. “You should go to bed, now.”

Willy hums. “I should. So should you.”

“Yes, I will,” Kappy says obediently.

“Hang up, now,” Willy says sweetly, and Kappy laughs. He smiles at Willy one last time, but it feels like he’s got more to say, or that he’s holding back. Willy can’t pinpoint what it is that Kappy wants to say, and that worries him. He doesn’t know.

—

This summer in Toronto is warmer than Willy usually remembers, although it’s not like he’s really there that much during the summer. His neighbour is locking the front door as he’s approaching. 

His neighbour, Maria, is super sweet, she promised to check on the condo once a week, give it little fresh air, all that. 

“Hey,” Maria’s eyes widen when she looks up and sees Willy. 

“What are you doing here?” Maria tilts her head.

“My teammate’s golf tournament,” Willy shrugs. “But I go back and forth a lot for work.”

Maria nods. “Well, I was just closing the windows, heard it’s going to rain tonight.”

“Aren’t you glad?” Willy jokes. “It’s scorching.”

“Perfect weather for a South American,” Maria smiles. “I gotta go, but how long are you staying?”

“A couple of days,” Willy answers. “Lunch?”

“Yes,” Maria smiles before walking down the elevators. 

Willy’s almost inside when Maria calls out, “Wait, Will!”

“Yeah?” Willy turns around. 

“Is your cute boyfriend here, too?” Maria winks. 

Willy’s smile doesn’t fall. “He’s back home.”

“Oh,” Maria frowns. “Okay.”

Willy doesn't know what else there is to say. He gives a tight-lipped smile, before fully entering his condo. The truth is, he hasn't talked to Kappy in a couple of days. 

It sounds pathetic, but it’s like Kappy’s not even  _ trying  _ to have a conversation with him. He knows his boyfriend isn’t busy, both of them exchanging immediately looking at each other’s Snapchat stories of food.

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what it is, if it’s Kappy pulling away from him again or if he’s just stressed. The longer it takes to this stupid contract signed, the more hair he feels like he’s losing. 

Mitch comes over an hour after Willy texts him that he’s home. 

_ Like home home ?  _ Mitch texted. 

_ Yes home home,  _ Willy replied with a grin on his face. 

_ Give me 15 mins  _

“I heard Kappy’s not coming to Zach’s golf tourney,” Mitch says, before even saying hi. He’s already got his shoes kicked off to a place that’s certainly  _ not  _ the shoe rack and looking in Willy’s very empty fridge. “You two fighting?”

“Ask him,” Willy says.

Mitch raises his brows. “Hey, by the way.”

“Hello,” Willy says. 

“Why are you fighting?” Mitch asks. “What happened?”

“Nothing  _ happened _ ,” Willy sighs.

“Then why—“ Mitch seems to realize the answer halfway through. “He’s doing it again.”

“I—“ Willy swallows. “I think it’s the contract.”

“Still,” Mitch shrugs. “That’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is. It’s my contract,” Willy sighs. “But it’s stressful for  _ me  _ too. He’s not the only one counting on me.”

“Right,” Mitch nods. “And it’s only the end of July anyway.”

“It is,” Willy agrees. “But it’s also almost August.”

Mitch ignores him. “Anyway. How was your flight?”

“Tiring,” Willy sighs. He didn’t have to get up too early, by flying across continents is never really fun, especially when you’ve got no one beside you. 

“I bet,” Mitch says. “Flying from Europe is not fun.”

Willy shakes his head. “Also, having to get adjusted to time zones is a lot.”

“So, Tavares, eh?” Mitch says. 

“Yeah,” Willy smiles. “I’ll probably be embarrassing when we finally practice together.”

“Did you text him?”

“No,” Willy says slowly. “How can I congratulate him for being on a team I’m not on?”

“You’re a Leaf,” Mitch scoffs.

“I know,” Willy gives him a look. “But isn’t there some legalities there or something?”

Mitch blinks. “Oh, dude, you might be onto something.”

Willy leans back into his couch. “I miss my boyfriend.”

“Me too,” Mitch sighs. 

Willy turns his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Willy sees Mitch swallow. 

“I told you so,” Willy says, leaning heavily into Mitch’s shoulder like a pest. Mitch barely manages to push him off, he definitely needs to work hard this summer, Willy thinks.

“Don’t say anything, yet,” Mitch sits up quickly and looks at Willy sternly. He’s red. “It’s still new. Can I even use boyfriend yet?”

“I mean,  _ yeah _ ,” Willy rolls his eyes. Mitch worries too much. The last time Willy saw Mitch, Mitch was sad about it, something Willy thought was absolutely ridiculous, with the way the two have been pining over each other — adopting a whole family and all. “I also have like, one friend.”

“No, those guys on your Instagram,” Mitch says. 

“They’re either Alex or David’s friends,” Willy shrugs.

“Oh,” Mitch says. He sounds sad. 

Willy doesn’t comment on that. “It’s fine. Summers do suck, though, without the team around me.”

“I agree with that,” Mitch nods. “The team really becomes family.”

“I wish my dad and agent would understand that,” Willy blurts. He sighs. It’s complicated, he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Dad’s suck sometimes,” Mitch says perceptively. “And they make you think you’re an adult and still want to shelter you.”

Willy blinks. “Yeah. I know. When will I get to grow up?”

“Never,” Mitch answers. “When you get married, maybe.”

**William Nylander’s contract stalemate at risk of eating into camp**

_ "I know Willy wants to be here and he wants to be around his teammates. It's not the easiest thing to go through. He's a great player, he's a great teammate, and we love to have him around." - Nazem Kadri _

It’s September now, and Willy’s still not in Toronto. He reads a couple of articles, he can’t help it. His team misses him, experts are worried about where this might head and of course, fans are split between whether management or himself are at fault.

He knows it’s pushing it now, that they’re nearing the season and he’s still not there with his team, and he knows that now. Sometimes Kappy sends him snaps of him trying new foods or going to certain places, but other than that, they don’t text much. 

Willy continually hovers over the call button, even if it's just a call to say hi, he still wants to hear him.

  
  


**Leafs GM Dubas, Nylander meeting in Europe**

_ Nylander told the Swedish outlet Aftonbladet on Oct. 4 that while it’s obviously a lot of money being asked for, “in the end, I have to take care of myself and do [what] myself and my agents think is right…I have to think long-term, it’s my own future.”  _

Of course, his dad doesn't want him to meet with Kyle Dubas alone. At  _ least _ with Lewis, is what he says, and Willy considers it because while it is about time Willy starts to take responsibility for his own career, he  _ does  _ require a little guidance. Maybe he’ll call Lewis and put him on speaker in the middle or something. 

He meets Kyle at a restaurant near the hotel he's staying at in Zurich. It's a little uncomfortable when he first sees him, he doesn't know what kind of atmosphere it's going to be. Straight to business, no small-talk? Or lunch first and then business? 

The waiter takes their drink orders swiftly before Kyle coughs loudly, asking, “How have you been?”

Willy shrugs. “Okay.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kyle nods. “Practicing with that team, it’s good?”

Willy snorts. “I guess. I’m sure the guys are curious what the hell I’m doing there.”

Kyle smiles. “I bet, but I’m sure they love skating with Nylander.”

“Well, that’s all I’m planning to do,” Willy tells him stiffly. 

"Of course," Kyle says. "We want you here."

“I know,” Willy looks away. “I  _ want  _ to be there.”

“You have to understand we can’t give you everything you want,” Kyle explains. “You’re very valuable to the team.”

"Okay," Willy says dumbly. He knows that he  _ does _ , it's just lovely to hear. The waiter comes with his drinks before he's able to thank Kyle, and he then asks them if they've had a chance to look at the menu. Kyle orders a steak, and Willy follows suit, he didn't actually get time to look at the menu, and kind of just wants to get this over with.

“So, what do you want out of this?” Willy asks. 

“Just wanted to make sure you’re good,” Kyle says. 

"You have my number," Willy nods at Kyle's cell phone lying face down on the table. 

“But this is better right?” Kyle asks. “It’s more personal. A phone call feels… distant.”

It is, and while Kyle may have meant to put Willy at ease, a call would’ve been better. He wouldn’t have to look at Kyle, see any kind of disappointment or impatience on his face. “I really want to be a Leaf.”

“I’m glad,” Kyle says. 

“But I have to do what’s best for me,” Willy continues. 

“Of course,” Kyle nods again, although it doesn’t seem like the answer he wanted. “I want what’s best for you, okay? I’m gonna try to give you that.”

Not over the team, of course, but Willy can’t blame him. 

“Okay,” Willy says. His stomach grumbles. “Ah, we should’ve gotten appetizers.”

  
  


**Leafs’ Kapanen taking advantage of best friend Nylander’s absence**

_ The sons of former NHLers shared an apartment in Toronto the last two seasons and labelled their friendship a “bromance” in social media posts. They played together in the American Hockey League before graduating to the Leafs. _

_ Now,  _ [ _ they’re on hiatus _ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/BBytd6qhuLU/) _. _

_ Kapanen has basically cut off communication with Nylander in recent weeks. He decided that it might be a bother if he reached out to his buddy while he was skating alone back in Stockholm and waiting for an end to his contract impasse. _

When Auston gets injured, Willy's not watching, but he sees the tweets online. He wants to text Auston, but he knows he won't get a reply, he's mad, and he has a right to be upset about his injury. He texts Mitch instead.

_ Fuckkkkkk _

Mitch responds back three minutes later,  _ i know.  _

_ Call him tomorrow _ , follows a minute later. 

Willy will call, of course, but he hopes Mitch didn’t tell him that because Auston wanted to talk to him. He doesn’t really know what he’d want to talk about.

He does call Auston the next day, who tells him his shoulder isn’t  _ that _ bad, because of course he does, and Willy would probably be saying the same thing if people were telling him he’d have to miss a month of hockey because of his shoulder.

“Hey,” Auston interrupts when Willy is talking about the team he’s practicing with. “Have you talked to Kappy?”

“Not really,” Willy frowns. “We’re not talking.”

“Maybe you should,” Auston says. 

"I don't think it would go anywhere," Willy explains. "There's nothing to really talk about, and there hasn't been for a couple of weeks. Like with the rest of the team?"

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know,” Willy admits. “He’s playing great.”

“He is,” Auston agrees. “That doesn’t mean he’s better off without you.”

Willy splutters. “I’m not--”

“Yeah?” Auston asks. 

“I miss him,” Willy says. “I do.” 

“It’s complicated,” Auston says. 

“Yeah,” Willy says. “As stupid as that sounds.”

**Leafs teammates 'really excited' about William Nylander's return**

_ "Babs popped out of the office and said we signed him," Mitch Marner said after Toronto's 5-3 win in St. Paul. "Of course everyone nowadays just goes right to a phone, so about 20 of us go over, grab our phones. The next thing you know, you see the signing. _

They make it before the deadline, of course, they do. Willy was practically vibrating in his clothes, scared about the fact that he might miss a whole season and that's--that's definitely not what's best. 

And Willy can’t help but release a loud sigh of relief when he gets off the phone with his agent and Dubas. 

Fuck. 

Alex is calling his other line immediately, probably hearing the news from their father, and Willy can also imagine his dad is  _ also  _ trying to call him, perhaps not able to get through. "I'll call you back." He presses end and answer call, and Alex is already yelling in his ear. 

“Fucking finally!”

“Right,” Willy laughs. He’s happy. The past week had been fucking stressful, and then seeing the quotes from his boyfriend, from the rest of his team, the guilt within him. His hockey bag is already packed, from yesterday night, and he stares at it longingly. 

“What did dad say?” Alex asks. 

"I haven't talked to him yet," Willy says. "He's probably tried calling, but you took up all the lines." 

“Can’t believe I beat him to you,” Alex sounds so fucking smug about it. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Willy says. 

“I was so scared,” Willy admits.

“I know,” Alex says. “I could tell that you called every hour of the day for the past week for assurance.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Willy grumbles. “We love each other.” 

“Yes we do,” Alex says as Willy’s phone vibrates against his ear, and vibrates, and vibrates again. 

“I think the news broke,” Willy says amusedly. “I’m gonna go respond to those texts.” 

“Yeah, yeah, show-off,” Alex says, rudely hanging up without saying goodbye. Willy will definitely talk to him about this when he sees him again.

Willy opens his camera before he checks his notifications and takes a quick shot of his Leafs bag on the floor. He opens Twitter and Instagram, something he hasn’t done in a  _ while _ and posts the picture with the caption,  _ Going home _

He knows it’ll make Toronto fans go crazy, and people shutting up about Willy taking playing on a team like the Maple Leafs for granted. He also knows Mitch will see it, and to that he’ll message him, informing Willy that Willy has  _ multiple homes _ , the rink, Toronto, and Kasperi, to please specify which home he’s referring to the next time.

When he does get to his notifications, though, they are a mess. People are messaging him from different kinds of apps. The most recent one is from his agent, messaging his flight details and some other necessary information. There's another one from David, saying  _ fuck yes  _ and  _ almost lost my hair dude _ . Willy rolls his eyes and sends back,  _ I thought this was about me? _

His dad called twice but sent only a single text,  _ Congratulations _ .

The Leafs group chat -- at least the one Willy is in is finally alive again, everyone sending in their own congratulations, with a few jokes and insults thrown in between. A separate one from Auston, that’s just the winking emoji because that’s how Auston is, always sending text messages that no one but himself understands.

As he’s replying to Auston, with an even more suggestive emoji, another notification comes in, from Kappy. Willy pauses as he wasn’t expecting that. What he sees before the banner disappears is  _ congrats babe :) what time you coming in tomorrow? _ . And, Willy, he should be mad, right? He should totally ignore that message and go the fuck to sleep so he can get a proper night's rests before running errands early in the morning before his flight. 

_ Mid-day to toronto if i recall correctly ? and thanks baby _

_ Okay  _

Willy waits for the typing bubble to come up again, for Kappy to say something else, to say  _ I miss you _ or something like that. But he doesn't, and for two minutes Willy stares at the screen, anticipating a reply. Willy almost throws his phone, frustrated. He doesn't understand why this is still happening. He tries to ration that they're about to play a game, and Kappy wants to focus as much as possible. 

He continues to respond and like comments, messages, and tweets before he gets tired enough to fall asleep.

**kasperikapanen1** : About time.

\--

“I missed having you here,” his sister says, hugging him tight. 

“I have to go,” Willy says. “But I did enjoy this extended vacation with you.”

"I'll see you in less than a month, anyway," his sister says like she wasn't just about to shed tears for him. 

The flight isn't bad, but it feels longer than average. Willy feels excited, he feels happy to be coming back, he's not even sure if he's dressed right for Toronto's weather, but he won't be outside for too long anyway. When he turns off airplane mode, he sees that there's a text from Kappy, saying he's near the airport, just drinking a coffee. Willy doesn't know where they're at, he doesn't know if Kappy's trying to apologize to him or what, he doesn't even know if Kappy  _ should _ apologize, it’s not like he made any efforts to reach out in the past couple of weeks, either. 

Kappy’s opening his trunk before Willy even gets outside. He looks tired, like he barely got any sleep, which he probably didn’t, on top of coming home from a late flight after  _ just  _ playing a game.

“I got you coffee,” Kappy says in-lieu of hello. “Did you eat anything?”

“Had early breakfast with my family,” Willy shrugs.

Kappy stares at him. “That was hours ago, Will.” 

“I’m hungry,” Willy says finally. 

“Yeah, I know, I bought you a breakfast sandwich, too,” Kappy says. He helps Willy load all his luggage into the back before shutting it closed. Willy returns the cart before going into the passenger seat. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Willy asks. 

Kappy snorts. “I’m always nice.”

Willy doesn't say anything to that, he finds the breakfast sandwich in the second cupholder. He tries not to inhale it, but he was starving, though it only began to settle in once he actually landed, excitement becoming a reality. The ride is silent, which is good because Willy finds his eyes slipping closed as they merge onto the highway.

\--

Willy's eyes twitch as he notices that something different in his condo. Something is  _ very  _ different. Something-- 

“Where are my planters?” Willy asks. 

“They’re in the closet,” Kappy explains, setting his keys onto the coffee table. “I put them away a long time ago.”

“Why?” Willy says. 

Kappy doesn't answer, he sits on the couch and beckons for Willy to come to sit beside him. Willy does, folding his feed under his thighs. He leans the side of his face on the couch and lets Kappy cup his left cheek as they stare at each other. 

“You ignored me,” Willy accuses him. “You left me hanging.”

“I’m sorry,” Kappy apologizes. “But can I also say, I missed your texts too.”

"I know," Willy nods. "I was mad and embarrassed and confused."

“I saw your dad’s text,” Kappy admits, but he’s not looking at Willy when he says it.

“Which one?” Willy asks.

“The one where--something about us being a distraction for your contract,” Kappy says. “You forget to lock your phone.” 

"It dies so fast," Willy agrees weakly. He can't believe Kappy saw it, but he can't believe Kappy didn't tell him right away. But he does again because he doesn't know what the hell he'd do, it's sort of an invasion of privacy, even if it's by accident, and shitty or not, Willy's dad really thought he was looking out for him.

“Willy,” Kappy says.

“He’s full of shit,” Willy answers finally. “You’re not, you never were.”

“But he doesn’t like me,” Kappy says.

Willy chews his lip for a moment. “I don’t know if that’s true, but I don’t care. You’ve got to know that, right?”

He doesn’t really want an answer to that, and thankfully, he doesn’t receive one. But  _ god _ , does he feel a little lightheaded at this. Of course, his dad got to Kappy, it's what he does best. He would be mad right now, but he's  _ home _ , and he doesn't have to worry about whether or not they'll be cut short from the night or company, they're both here, and they can talk about it for hours, even if it annoys Willy. 

Kappy kisses him, desperately, and Willy almost doesn’t catch up to his pace. He’s kissing Willy like he doesn’t want to lose him again, and Willy places a hand on his hip, trying to tell him that he was there the whole time, even if it didn’t feel like it. 

They don't leave the couch, and Willy will regret that later on in the day when he thinks about it, but for now, he's smiling at Kappy who's got one hand frozen in his hair, and the other one holding his phone and scrolling through it, occasionally laughing at videos he lands on. 

“Hey,” Willy kicks Kappy’s thigh. “I heard you dreamt about me. Multiple times.”

“I actually hate you,” Kappy says.

“Oh really?” Willy leans forward. “Then who put out those quotes? Your clone?”

Kappy leans forward and meets Willy’s lips. “I. Hate. You.” He says in between each kiss. 

Willy doesn’t believe him. Of course not. He’s full of shit. 

"I love you too," Willy grins.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading :) willys home :)


End file.
